


If You're Afraid of Falling, Then Don't Look Down

by geckogirl7



Series: Clint Barton Bingo 2019 [9]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Clint Barton Bingo 2019, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt Bruce Banner, Hurt Clint Barton, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Breakdown, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Psychotropic Drugs, Stephen Strange is a Good Bro, Waffles, Whump, Whumptober 2019, slight Stephen Strange whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-01 03:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21348388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckogirl7/pseuds/geckogirl7
Summary: On a mission Clint and Bruce are exposed to an experimental psychotropic drug. The drug has repressed the Hulk, and Bruce finds himself on a bad trip. Injured and drugged, Clint tries to keep Bruce calm until help can arrive.
Series: Clint Barton Bingo 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1306766
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62
Collections: Clint Barton Bingo





	1. Tripping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Clint Barton Bingo fill for this chapter is "Crying."
> 
> I also incorporated some Whumptober prompts throughout, even though I didn't finish by the end of October like I had hoped (midterms are a bitch). 
> 
> Triggers: Drugs, altered mental state due to drugs, stab wounds/injuries, panic attacks, and language. See end note for more details...

This was not good. This was so far from good. Clint took another shallow breath, trying not to inhale too deeply. There was a fine mist in the air and he had no idea what the hell it was. There was no telling what kind of shit was being stored in this HYDRA freakshow of a lab. 

He looked around the room, or what was left of the room, trying to find the Hulk. He had been nearby when the pipes exploded, and Clint was kicking himself for not noticing they were rigged to blow until it was too late. He just hoped the big guy wouldn’t bring the building down on them. 

The rest of the team was probably on their way, hopefully. It had been a weird day full of a lot of weird shit. They’d had to divide and conquer, so the team was split up dealing with aliens, interdimensional monsters, assassins, an earthquake, and now this. Fucking full moon on a Friday the 13th. 

He and Bruce had been the only ones free to deal with a reported HYDRA lab. Natasha had told him to wait for backup, but there was no telling how long that would be. Clint figured he and the Hulk could handle it. He’d been so fucking wrong. He had no idea who might be free to come help them or if they even knew something had happened. 

And he was starting to feel weird. 

The mist seemed to dissipate some. He tried the comms again, still down, but maybe they’d still be able to track the GPS. He stumbled across the room, listening for the sounds of the Hulk and looking for a large green shape. 

Which was why he was surprised when he stumbled upon Bruce. He had never been completely knocked out of Hulk form before, Clint didn’t think it was possible. Even the time Tony dropped the Hulk through a building after Wanda had messed with his mind (good times), it had taken a while for the Hulk to change back. 

Bruce groaned, sitting up. His head was killing him, and he didn’t know what the hell was going on. Things were in shambles around him and he really hoped the other guy didn’t do that. But the other guy was being eerily quiet, usually he could still hear him right after he changed back. 

“Bruce, can you hear me? Stay with me.”

Bruce recognized Clint’s voice, he was crouching in front of him. But Bruce couldn’t lift his head out of his hands quite yet, his head was killing him and he was dizzy. 

“I...feel weird. What’s happening?,” Bruce slurred. 

“We’re at the HYDRA lab. Some pipes exploded, there was some sort of mist in the room, we should probably get out of here,” Clint said with concern. 

“The other guy...he...where is he?”

Bruce looked up and Clint jumped back. Bruce’s eyes were bright green. 

“Oh shit! I um...I dunno man. We should probably get out of here…” 

Except Clint’s legs were feeling heavy. He felt himself sinking reluctantly to his knees. 

“Bruce...what was in those pipes?,” Clint asked desperately. The walls were breathing, and if he didn’t know any better he’d say he was tripping balls right now. 

“Some sort of…oh god, the floor's moving!” 

“Bruce think!”

Clint slapped Bruce. Probably not a good idea slapping the man who transformed into a rage monster, but Clint had never been known to make decisions beneficial to his well-being. They needed to keep it together. Even if it felt like his skin was crawling. And the ceiling was purple. And the walls were shimmering with triangles now. 

“Psychotropic, some sort of experimental hallucinogenic…messes with emotions...” Bruce lost his train of thought as the broken glass around him changed colors. 

“Fuck, we gotta go,” Clint slurred. 

He had done party drugs a couple of times, not really his thing, and he had been drugged on missions before. This wasn’t his first rodeo, he knew how to try to combat the effects, how to compartmentalize his mind and remind himself that it wasn’t real. 

He was worried about Bruce. He had been a lot closer to the blast and if it had been bad enough to knock out the Hulk, then Bruce had gotten a damn high dose. 

And while Clint could fight the mental effects he couldn’t combat the confusion and the physical effects. His heart was racing and he was sweating. 

“We gotta go,” he tried again. 

He pulled on Bruce’s arm, shivering at the prickly feeling of his shirt. 

“Don’ touch me,” Bruce mumbled. 

“Goddammit we’ve gotta go,” Clint said, pulling on Bruce harder. 

Bruce was starting to panic, he hadn’t felt like this in a long time. The room was going to swallow them whole. The colors were too bright. Where was the other guy? His  heart rate was through the roof, it had been years since his heart rate had been this high. He didn’t like it. The other guy always came. 

“Can’t breathe…,” Bruce gasped. 

Clint, through all the freaky-ass psychedelic colors, realized Bruce was having a panic attack. He laid a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 

Bruce looked up and saw the shadow over him. He felt its icy piercing touch on his shoulder. He blindly felt around and grabbed a piece of glass, jamming it into the thing’s leg. 

Clint screamed, jumping back. He slammed into a cabinet and sank to the floor. A white hot pain seared into his right thigh just above the knee. He reached down and felt hot sticky blood. He took a deep breath and tried not to throw up. 

All the freaky shit around him seemed to lighten up somewhat. Bruce was huddled in a corner a few feet away. Clint carefully felt the wound, cursing. There was something sharp embedded in his leg, glass. 

“Clint if you can hear me help is on the way”

Clint looked around. He thought the hallucinations had calmed down but now he was hearing voices. And the voice sounded like Natasha. 

“Clint, Tony was able to tap into the cameras and PA system.”

“Is this real?” Clint didn’t trust his senses right now. It could be another hallucination, but things seemed to have calmed down...

“Yes I’m fucking real. I told you to wait for backup before rushing in there you dumbass.”

Ok, that was the real Natasha. 

“Listen, there’s some sort of drug in the air. I was able to find some reports, it manipulates the brain. Sends the person into a psychedelic state and messes with emotions.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Clint groaned. His leg fucking hurt. 

“Shut up. One of the things that seems to affect it is adrenaline.”

That made sense. Getting stabbed in the leg, and the pain, made things clearer. 

“That room is unstable, I’m trying to get to you, but you need to get out of there,” Natasha said. 

So the floor really was shaking, it wasn’t just the drugs. Good to know. 

“You saw how well that went over,” Clint grumbled. 

He didn’t blame Bruce for attacking him, but he wasn’t eager to get stabbed again. 

“You need to get Bruce to snap out of it long enough to move. Remember,adrenaline slows the drug down.”

“I need to stab him?” 

Clint really didn’t want to do that. Wait, that’s probably not what Natasha meant. His brain was moving pretty slow, he wasn’t sure whether that was the drugs or blood loss. 

“Jesus Christ. No. You need to get him worked up, scare him.” Natasha sounded slightly worried. 

Right, that made sense. That wouldn’t be hard right now, Bruce was really freaked out. 

“I don’t wanna do this,” Clint groaned. 

“I know, but you have to move and this is the only way I can think of,” Natasha said regretfully. 

This wasn’t the best plan, there was no telling how Bruce would react. She was hoping that if they could get Bruce’s adrenaline going his head would clear long enough for Clint to move him.

“Just be careful,” she added. 

“I will.”

Clint sighed. He needed to figure out the best way to do this. Bruce was already freaked out, so it probably wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge. Clint decided to go for straight intimidation and threats. 

But first he needed to take care of this leg wound. He opened the pocket in his quiver and dug around until he felt the plastic wrapper of what he was looking for. He pulled out the square of “synflesh” that Dr. Cho had created. It would bond with his skin and help control the bleeding until he could get help. 

He pulled out a knife and carefully cut away some of the fabric surrounding the wound. He wiped the area down with disinfectant, which burnt like a fucking bitch, and carefully applied the square over the wound. He cursed, it really stung, and then sighed when the pain finally started to subside. The “synflesh” squares had antibiotics and pain control added, so that was awesome. It would get him by until help arrived, they could worry about getting the glass out then. 

Now to get this over with. Clint spotted Bruce still over in the corner. It was now or never. Clint pulled out a knife and headed towards him. 

Bruce couldn’t tell what was up or down. He had hurt someone, his brain was trying to tell him he had hurt someone, but he had only seen the shadows. Where was the Other Guy? Something was coming towards him, someone. With a knife. He had no way to fight, nowhere to run. 

“Not so tough are you without the Hulk?,” the menacing man asked. 

He knew. He knew the Hulk had left him. How did he know? Bruce couldn’t see straight, the man’s features were blurry, his voice distorted. 

“No one’s coming to save you,” the man said, lunging. 

Bruce scrambled back, but he was too slow. He felt the cold steel against his throat. This was it, this was how it was going to end. Bruce screamed, and felt the blackness at the edges of his vision overtake him. 

“Shit,” Clint muttered, throwing the knife aside. 

Bruce had blacked out. Fortunately, a minute later, he began to stir, his eyes opening slowly. 

“Bruce, are you with me? Come on man, please say you’re with me.”

Bruce groaned. He had no idea what the hell was happening. “Clint?”

“Yes! It’s me. We’re in a HYDRA lab, we got dosed by some sort of drug. You were having a bad trip, I was able to snap you out of it,” Clint explained. “We need to move, Natasha’s on her way.”

Bruce nodded, still dazed. His head was still swimming, but he at least knew where he was and who he was. But it wouldn’t last long. 

Bruce stood up shakily and Clint groaned as he stood. He grabbed his bow and quiver and carefully tucked the knife back into its sheath. He laid a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and carefully led him through the door. 

Clint’s leg was throbbing and he was still seeing some freakyass colors, but he and Bruce needed to get somewhere safe. He leaned on Bruce some and the pair made their way to a stairwell. It was intact. They slowly made their way down, with Clint almost losing his balance and falling. 

Bruce swallowed against the nausea, the stairs were spinning and the vertigo was making him sick. He could feel his concentration slipping, he knew his brief reprieve from the drugs was almost over. His heart started pounding at the thought of going back under. He knew this time the effects of the drug would come back with a vengeance. 

“Clint...need to stop. Can’t...it’s going to be bad.”

“What?,” Clint asked in alarm. 

“I can feel the adrenaline wearing off. Effects are going to be worse,” Bruce gasped. 

“Shit, well, the pain in my leg is helping me... should I hurt you?”

Clint really didn’t want to hurt Bruce, but if it would help him he could slap him or something. 

“Won’t work, I got dosed too high. And my metabolism’s different,” Bruce tried to explain. 

What he really meant to say was that he got hit with a higher dose, and that coupled with his unique physiology and lack of the other guy meant the drugs were  affecting him more. Short of injecting himself with adrenaline, which would risk giving him a heart attack or stroke, there wasn’t much he could do. The pain from Clint’s leg wound was helping him...oh god. 

“I did it,” Bruce whispered in shock. 

“What?”

“I hurt you, tried...to kill…,” Bruce could feel tears forming. 

Oh god, Bruce thought, no wonder no one loved him. He didn’t deserve it. He hurt everyone around him. He was a monster even without the Hulk. 

“Bruce it was an accident, I’ve had worse, it’s ok,” Clint replied. 

He laid a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, he could tell that Bruce was slipping. His eyes, which had almost gone back to their normal color, were turning green again. Unfortunately he didn’t look like he was going to transform, in this case it would be a mercy. Whatever bullshit drug they had been hit with was messing with their minds and blocking the Hulk. 

It wasn’t just messing with their senses, it was screwing with their emotions. Clint still felt on the edge of panic. Bruce was looking around with fear and confusion. Clint ignored the swirling patterns on the floor and sank down beside Bruce. 

Bruce mumbled something. 

“What was that?”

“I ...can’t….do... this…”

Clint took a deep breath. Bruce’s eyes were bright green now and he looked like he was going to lose it, and he didn’t have the Hulk to catch him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This story involves a bad drug trip and is written to mimic being high on an LSD-style drug. If you have had bad experiences with drugs in the past or struggle with drug abuse etc. please be very careful reading!**
> 
> I'm not a medical expert or an expert on drugs. This is a fictional drug based on hallucinogenic drugs like LSD and PCP. I did research, but know that there will be inaccuracies since I don't have a health or science background. I have also never used hallucinogenic drugs myself, but tried to read some first-hand experiences before writing this.
> 
> I was partly inspired by the episode of Sherlock "The Hounds of Baskerville."
> 
> Title is from the Imagine Dragons song "Walking the Wire."
> 
> [I'm on Tumblr!](https://geckogirl7.tumblr.com/)


	2. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce continues to decline as Clint fights against the effects of the drug and tries to keep them both safe. Natasha arrives, with help from Stephen Strange, and the two of them take Clint and Bruce back to the compound. Stephen uses a risky spell to try to help Clint and Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Clint Barton Bingo fill for this chapter is "Tripping."
> 
> I also incorporated some Whumptober prompts throughout, even though I didn't finish by the end of October like I had hoped.
> 
> Triggers: Drugs, altered mental state due to drugs, stab wounds/injuries, panic attacks, some medical stuff, and language.

Bruce felt himself slipping, tried to remind himself what was happening, it was in his head, it was a drug that was targeting his emotions. But the brief moment of clarity was over and he was crashing harder than before. 

The walls were no longer swirling and colorful. The walls were black. Something was crunching under his feet, glass? No, bones. Bones were crunching under his feet. Around him were the bodies, all the people that had died because of him. People killed by the Hulk, people who died trying to replicate his experiments. Bodies everywhere. Women, children, so many people. His hands were covered in blood, he could feel it dripping. Drops of blood were falling from his eyes. He scratched and clawed at his arms and face, trying to wipe away the blood. 

Clint grabbed Bruce’s arms, trying to keep him from hurting himself. He had been crying and shaking, looking around himself in horror. Then he had snapped and started scratching himself. Bruce shoved Clint off and crawled to a corner, curling up. Clint stayed nearby but decided not to touch him unless he started hurting himself again. Bruce was already agitated and Clint didn’t want to add to that. 

Clint was fighting off his own hallucinations. They were nowhere near as bad as what Bruce was probably experiencing, but he was having trouble focusing. The colors and movement and sounds were overwhelming. He could take his hearing aids out, but then he wouldn’t be able to hear Bruce. 

Right now he could hear Bruce sobbing; he knew he needed to try to help him. He felt sick knowing there wasn’t anything he could  really do to help. He had tried talking to Bruce, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Bruce was too out of it to notice. 

Clint was crawling towards Bruce when he noticed sparks and flashes in the corner of his vision. He thought it was just another visual disturbance when the sparks took the shape of a circle and someone stepped through. 

“Nat?,” he asked. He leaned heavily against a wall, struggling to stand.

The person looked like Natasha, but a mask was blocking part of their face. 

“Clint, it’s me. I’m here, take it easy” Natasha said. 

She took in Clint’s unfocused eyes, his disheveled appearance, and the blood and bandages on his leg. He looked freaked out, understandably, but Natasha had seen him in a lot of situations and it took a lot for Clint to show his fear so openly. These drugs were definitely messing with him. 

Natasha spotted Bruce huddled in the corner. He was crying, and as she got closer she realized he was trembling. It could be from the drugs, fear, or both. Whatever it was, she knew she needed to get Clint and Bruce out of there. She just wasn’t sure how coherent Bruce was at the moment. 

“Bruce, it’s me, Natasha,” she said quietly. She crouched a safe distance away. 

It took a moment but Bruce finally looked up. His pale face was tear stained and his eyes were red, which made the fact that his irises were green stand out even more. 

“Bruce, we’re going to get you out of here,” Natasha stated, “Can you tell me how you’re doing?”

She cursed when Bruce ignored her and continued looking around him in fear. She had no idea what he was seeing. 

Just then another portal sparked to life, startling the shit out of everyone except Natasha. Doctor Strange stepped through. Clint realized he hadn’t been seeing things, well he had, but that explained how Natasha had randomly appeared. Although the colors and shifting room made the portal even weirder than usual. 

“It’s about damn time,” Natasha said. 

“As you know I’ve been fighting multiple interdimensional beings all day, and I had to seal a rift between dimensions before coming here,” Stephen grumbled. 

That explained why the sorcerer was covered in what looked to be green and blue slime. Clint was going to ask about that, but then the windows started spinning and he was still tripping balls and everything sucked. 

“We need to get them out of here. Shouldn’t you have a mask on?,” Natasha asked. The last thing they needed was Strange being hit by this thing. He was already weird enough, there was no telling what would happen if drugs were thrown into the mix. 

“Protection shield. Are we taking them back to the compound?,” Stephen asked. 

“Yes, although we might have some trouble moving Bruce,” Natasha replied. 

“I can help,” Clint added. He slowly stood up, hissing at the pain in his leg. 

The building shook, threatening to come down. 

“The portal will stay open on its own, Clint you go through first and then Natasha and I will get Bruce through. Be ready on the other side,” Stephen said, opening a portal. 

Clint knew there wasn’t time to argue. He carefully limped through the portal, having trouble seeing straight. He turned to wait for the others. 

Natasha laid a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 

“We need to go.”

Bruce tried to shuffle away. He was still being attacked by shadows and bodies and guilt. So much guilt, he always hurt the people around him. He was scared and trapped in a nightmare. 

“We don’t have time, we’ve got to get out of here,” Stephen said. 

Natasha nodded. They had to move quick. 

She and Stephen swooped down on Bruce, each grabbing an arm and hoisting him up. Bruce cried out and flailed, trying to get away. The sparks and color of the portal was being distorted by the drugs, freaking Bruce out. 

Natasha and Stephen managed to forcibly drag Bruce through the portal and into the clinic area of the compound. Bruce managed to pull away and dove under one of the beds. 

“Shit. Now what?,” Natasha asked. 

This was beyond her realm of experience. They had two teammates dosed by an experimental drug, one of whom was bleeding from a stab wound. Whatever this shit was it had them both freaked out and had managed to stop the Hulk, which was a first. Natasha was glad Stephen was a neurosurgeon. He knew the brain, and hopefully how drugs affected it, better than anyone. 

“I read the reports Tony managed to pull. It’s an experimental drug called AH7-14. In simple terms it seems to be a hallucinogen that also affects the limbic system of the brain and the amygdala. This drug specifically targets negative emotions like fear and sadness,” Stephen explained. 

“So it’s like a more complicated version of LSD that always creates a bad trip,” Natasha summarized. 

“In simple terms...yes,” Stephen reluctantly conceded. 

Natasha knew it was more complicated than that, this was an entirely new unknown drug, but she didn’t want to get caught up in all the details. She could tell Stephen wanted to analyze the shit out of it (he might be a sorcerer, but he would never stop being a scientist). However, they had two sick and injured teammates they needed to help. 

“So what do we do?,” Natasha asked. 

“We need to take blood samples. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to start IV fluids. I definitely need to look at Clint’s leg, he’ll probably need stitches and something for the pain. We may need to sedate Bruce, although I’d rather get the blood work back before using any drugs. Stark’s equipment is highly advanced so we should get the results quickly.”

As Stephen was talking he quickly and expertly pulled the supplies they needed and had them laid out on the counter. 

Bruce was still hiding under the bed, Natasha could hear him breathing shakily. Clint was being uncharacteristically quiet and was lying with his eyes closed. Natasha  could tell he was at the end of his rope physically and mentally and was trying to ground himself. She longed to comfort them both but right now they had a job to do. 

“I’ll take care of Clint first since he’s injured. If you could an eye on Bruce,” Stephen suggested. 

Natasha nodded. She moved closer to where Bruce was huddled, but not too close so he wouldn’t freak out. 

Stephen walked over to Clint. 

“Barton, how are you doing?,” he asked. 

Clint opened his eyes. “I’ve had better days.” 

“I would hope so,” Stephen replied, raising an eyebrow. “I need to start an IV and get some bloodwork. After that I can take a look at your leg.”

Clint shook his head. “Take care of Bruce first.” 

“Bruce isn’t bleeding,” Stephen pointed out. 

With shaking hands Stephen pulled over a tray with the supplies needed to start and IV and take some blood. 

Clint didn’t want to point out the elephant in the room, but he didn’t see how Stephen was going to be able to start an IV with his hands shaking. 

Stephen must have guessed what Clint was thinking. 

“I can channel magic into my hands for short periods of time to stop the shaking. It doesn’t last long but I should have enough time to fix you and Bruce up,” Stephen explained. 

He drew a mandala, which shimmered green and gold before fading away. Stephen’s hands were perfectly steady. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Clint said, surprised. 

Stephen put on gloves and tied a tourniquet around Clint’s arm. He had to move quickly, he probably only had about half an hour. 

“I only use it in emergencies. I can’t do any spells while this is in place. And it doesn’t last long enough to do much. Plus the shaking is usually worse after,” Stephen explained as he found a vein and cleaned the area. 

He didn’t bring up the Ancient One’s revelation that he could regain the use of his hands by abandoning being a sorcerer and channeling his magic continuously into his hands. 

“I appreciate it,” Clint said. 

Stephen nodded. “Try to relax your arm and take a deep breath.”

Stephen was glad to see he hit the vein on the first try, considering he was out of practice. He quickly got the blood sample and set up the IV, taping it into place. 

“I’m going to get the analysis on your blood going then I’ll get some fluids started and take a look at your leg,” Stephen said, cleaning up the equipment. 

“No rush man, I’ll be here,” Clint said, yawning. This day was really kicking his ass. 

Stephen inserted the test tube of Clint’s blood into the machine and started it. Stark’s equipment was amazing, in about thirty minutes he’d have a preliminary reading that would let him know the levels of the drugs in Clint’s blood. 

“How’s he doing?,” Stephen asked Natasha. 

“He’s a little more agitated,” Natasha said, looking at Bruce. 

“We’re going to need to sedate him,” Stephen stated. 

While he’d rather get a blood sample before using any medications on Bruce, the data and information Stark sent him indicated that there shouldn’t be any interactions between the drug and a sedative. This would be the only way to get Bruce calmed down and allow him to rest. Besides, none of them wanted to risk being exposed to Bruce’s blood. He’d half to be calm before Stephen would risk getting a blood sample. 

“How do you want to do this?,” Natasha asked. 

Their only downside was that Stephen didn’t have his magic. But he did have the Cloak, plus Bruce wasn’t a trained fighter and Natasha very much was. 

“If you can get his arms the Cloak can pin his feet. I just need to get the medication in the thigh muscle,” Stephen explained. 

“Then let’s do it.”

Natasha and Stephen quickly managed to pin Bruce. Fortunately, Bruce was still out of it so they had the element of surprise on their side. Before Bruce really had time to react Stephen had already stuck the needle into his leg and injected the sedative. After a couple of minutes of crying out and trying to crawl away, Bruce finally closed his eyes. 

“Let’s get him up on the bed. I’ll get an IV started,” Stephen said, eyeing the clock. He needed to stitch Clint up before the spell wore off. 

Clint didn’t think he had ever been this exhausted before. He could barely keep his eyes open. He was vaguely aware of Stephen cutting away the leg of his pants to look at the wound. 

He flinched at the sting when Stephen pulled off the bandage. 

“This isn’t too bad, it’s an even cut. It shouldn’t take too many stitches,” Stephen said. 

Clint nodded. He bit back a groan when Stephen injected the numbing medication. 

“I need to get the glass out and then clean the wound. The lidocaine should help, but it will still sting,” Stephen warned him. 

Clint nodded. This definitely wasn’t the first time he had needed stitches. It wasn’t even the first time he had been stabbed. 

Clint gripped the side of the bed and held his breath as Stephen quickly and carefully pulled the piece of glass from the wound. 

“Fortunately it’s just the one piece,” Stephen said after examining the cut. “I'll need to clean it out before starting the stitches.”

“Ok,” Clint said, taking a breath. 

Clint hissed as Stephen flushed out the wound. Strange was being as careful as possible, but it still hurt like a bitch. At least the effects of the drugs seemed to be letting up some. Stephen had given him some pain medication, but it hadn't really kicked in yet. 

“I’m almost done,” Stephen said.

Natasha sat beside Clint on the bed, combing her fingers through his hair. Clint closed his eyes and tried to relax. Soon he could sleep and hopefully when he woke up he’d feel less shitty. 

Stephen threaded the needle and carefully started stitching the wound closed. Compared to the burning of having the wound cleaned out Clint barely felt anything, especially with the lidocaine. 

Soon Stephen had the cut sutured and bandaged. Clint’s eyes slowly closed as he finally fell asleep. 

Stephen started the IV fluids and began cleaning everything up. 

After a few minutes Natasha covered Clint with a blanket and went to check on Stephen. She had noticed his hands had started to shake. 

Stephen cursed as the tremors came back. His hands were spasming and aching. There was a reason why he rarely used that spell. Fortunately he had gotten Clint and Bruce taken care of and things cleaned up. Once the bloodwork came back he would be able to figure out a low dose of an antipsychotic to help counteract the effects of the drug. 

He sank down into a nearby chair and held his hands in his lap. 

“Here,” Natasha said, sneaking up next to him. 

He looked and saw she had a heating pad. 

“I’ll be fine…”

“Just shut up and take it,” she replied, plugging it in. 

Stephen sighed. At this point he was tired and hurting and willing to let go of his ego for some relief. 

“Thank you,” he said as Natasha helped him wrap his hands in the large heating pad. 

“Is there anything you can take for the pain?,” she asked. 

Stephen sighed. His medication he took on bad days was at the Sanctum and he had no way of portaling over. 

“Just tell me what you need and I’ll look in the pharmacy. We’re stocked with pretty much everything.”

Stephen had been impressed at the sheer amount of supplies in the medical area. Tony and Steve didn’t mess around when it came to the health and safety of the team. Stephen gave Natasha the names and dosages of the medications and she returned several minutes later with a few pills and some water. 

She helped him unwrap his hands, the heat was already helping, and held his wrist steady as he washed down the pills with some water.

She knew Stephen had to really be hurting for him to let her help him. She was the same way. She only showed her weaknesses when she was really in pain and around people she could trust. She was honored that Stephen trusted her and wanted to do what she could to help him, especially after he helped Bruce and Clint. But she knew he was stubborn and proud and didn’t want to push him away. 

She made small talk with Stephen in an attempt to distract him from his hands. She also kept a close eye on Clint and Bruce. The results from the blood work came back and Natasha followed Stephen’s instructions as she drew the dosages of the  medication into syringes and injected them into their IV’s. Now all they could do was let them rest and let the fluids and medication flush the drugs from their systems. 

Stephen settled back down into the chair. 

“You’ll probably be more comfortable on one of the beds,” Natasha suggested. 

“I’m fine,” Stephen insisted. 

“At least lean back,” Natasha said, pulling the lever and leaning the recliner back without giving Stephen a choice. 

He sighed, but didn’t argue with her. 

He meant to stay awake and keep an eye on Clint and Bruce, but he felt his eyes growing heavier. He tried to fight off the sleep, but between the warm heating pad and the slight haze of the pain medication he slowly fell asleep. The Cloak had been hanging back out of the way, but now it glided over and gently draped itself over Stephen. 

Natasha pulled out her phone and updated the team on the situation, reassuring them that things were under control. She also texted Wong because she knew he’d be worried. She looked at her three sleeping teammates and took a deep breath, glad that they were all ok. 

She grew bored after a while and was struck by inspiration on how she could pass the time and cheer everyone up when they awoke. 

“FRIDAY, can you keep an eye on things and let me know if anyone wakes up or anything changes?,” Natasha asked. 

“Of course.”

Natasha made her way to the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've said before, I'm not a medical expert. I did do some research, but a lot of this is somewhat hand-wavey. But it's ok because Marvel is full of awesome fake science. 
> 
> Here are the Whumptober prompts I sprinkled throughout the two chapters: tear stained, explosion, hallucination, stab wound, dragged away, stitches, adrenaline, trembling, pinned down, hiding, and delirium.
> 
> Chapter three will be the conclusion!
> 
> [I'm on Tumblr!](https://geckogirl7.tumblr.com/)


	3. Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Bruce continue to recover and have a conversation about what they went through. Natasha makes waffles and everything is ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest I have ever gone without finishing a story and I apologize. It has been a crazy past couple of months. I finished my second semester of grad school and am in the process of moving and changing jobs. Thank you to everyone following this story for being patient. 
> 
> There are no specific warnings for this chapter other than discussions of drugs and what had happened in the past two chapters and, of course, language.

Not a lot of people knew this but Natasha Romanoff, the feared Black Widow, was a stress baker. Whenever she needed to unwind she’d go into the kitchen, put some music on, and bake. Living with a bunch of people who loved to eat, and several of whom had super metabolisms, meant that her creations were always welcome. 

Natasha finished fixing up a large bowl of waffle batter and looked in the cabinets for things to add. So far she had found chocolate chips, blueberries, powdered sugar, and peanut butter. She’d make a stack of each, plus some plain ones. They also had several different types of syrup. 

She pulled out the gigantic waffle press she had gotten for Christmas last year and blasted the new album Clint had bought her (he might make fun of her taste in music but he always made sure she had her favorite bands’ latest CD’s) and set to work. 

Before she knew it an hour had passed and she’d reached the end of the album. She also had about six large stacks of waffles. The rest of the team would appreciate the carbs when they returned. 

She put the waffles in the warmer that Tony had designed (it kept food at the perfect temperature without making it soggy) and went to check on everyone. The three were still sleeping soundly.

She asked FRIDAY to keep her updated and headed to her room. 

She quickly got a shower, washing the grime of the day off, and changed into clean clothes. She checked the messages from the team and was relieved that everyone was ok and they’d be back later. 

She checked on everyone one more time, then settled herself in front of the TV in the other room where she could still see through the door into the clinic area. She turned on one of her guilty pleasure TV shows (one that Clint also made fun of her for, but she knew he secretly enjoyed) and began to watch. 

She glanced into the clinic once in a while and after two and a half episodes she noticed Stephen stirring. 

“Doctor Strange is awake,” FRIDAY informed her. 

Natasha thanked the AI and headed into the other room. 

Stephen glanced around, confused about where he was for a moment. Then everything came rushing back: the craziness of the day, Clint and Bruce, the drugs, the spell. That explained why he was exhausted and his hands were hurting more than usual. 

He untangled his hands from the heating pad and was relieved that they weren’t shaking as bad as earlier and the pain had turned into a dull ache thanks to the pain medication and muscle relaxers. He gently nudged the cloak off of him and sat up, glancing at Clint and Bruce. Both of them were still sleeping and their vitals were stable. 

“How are you doing?,” Natasha asked, quietly entering the room. 

Stephen jumped slightly in surprise then shrugged. 

“Not too bad. You should have woken me up.” He saw by the clock on the wall he had been asleep for several hours. 

Natasha shrugged in reply. “Everything was quiet, plus I figured you could use the rest.”

Stephen sighed. She wasn’t wrong, but he hated lying around when there were things to do. 

“How much longer do you think they’ll be out?,” Natasha asked. 

“Probably another hour or two.”

Natasha nodded. She knew Stephen would want to stay to check on them when they woke up, plus he was in no shape to be portalling back to the Sanctum. Not that she’d say that to him, he’d try to portal somewhere out of sheer stubbornness. 

“Why don’t you get cleaned up, there’s a large guest bathroom and plenty of extra clothes,” Natasha suggested. She knew Tony had extra clothes in everyone’s size. 

Stephen was about to refuse but then noticed the dried multi-colored slime all over his robes and decided a shower probably wasn’t a bad idea. He’d rather go home and get cleaned up, but while he was pretty sure he could get to the Sanctum, he wasn’t sure he’d have the energy to portal back and he needed to keep an eye on Clint and Bruce when they woke up. 

Stephen reluctantly agreed and Natasha showed him to the spacious guest bathroom. It wasn’t really a bathroom, it was more like a bathing suite. There was a large tub, a large shower, a changing area, a closet, a huge sink with a counter,  cabinets with all sorts of soaps and shampoos, bins of towels and robes, and a separate room with a toilet. Hell, there was even a couch. 

Natasha showed him around the spacious area then left him to his own devices. He found some clothes in a bin with his name on it. It was actually flattering, if not a little weird, that Stark considered him enough of a part of the team to keep clothes at the compound for him. He had never really been a team player in the past, but he was discovering it wasn’t too bad. 

Natasha went back to her show and about forty-five minutes later Stephen returned looking a lot happier now that he wasn’t covered in alien slime. He returned to the medical area to look over the lab results and reports while Natasha finished the episode she was watching. 

Clint finally began to wake up. He was still groggy, but fortunately didn’t feel as hellish as he had earlier. When he opened his eyes he was glad to see that nothing was moving and everything was the proper color. He glanced over to see that Bruce was sleeping, and was glad he looked less distressed than he had been earlier. 

Natasha and Stephen quickly made their way over. 

“How are you doing?,” Natasha asked. 

“Better than earlier, that’s for damn sure.”

Natasha and Stephen looked relieved. 

“I just want to look you over, check on the stitches, but your vitals look a lot better. Any visual disturbances or auditory hallucinations?,” Stephen asked. 

“No, thank fuck,” Clint replied. 

Natasha left Stephen to check Clint over and decided to get the food set up. Bruce would probably be waking up soon and the warmer would keep everything hot. She knew Clint would drink a whole pot of coffee so she’d need to make a few. 

Once Stephen was satisfied that Clint was doing better he unhooked the IV and Clint sat up with a groan. He was stiff and sore, but nothing he couldn’t handle. 

“Am I good to get a shower?,” Clint asked. He felt grimy and disgusting. 

“Do you feel dizzy at all?,” Stephen asked. Not that Clint would tell him if he was. 

“Not really.” 

Stephen nodded skeptically and turned to the cloak. 

“Follow him, catch him if he seems unsteady or about to fall over.”

“Oh come on,” Clint protested, “I don’t wanna get a shower with that thing watching, it’d be weird.”

Stephen smirked when the cloak smacked Clint. 

“The cloak will make sure you don’t fall over and FRIDAY will alert me if there’s any problems,” Stephen stated, ignoring Clint’s bitching. 

“Fine,” Clint sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to win this battle. 

Stephen rolled his eyes as Clint slumped off bickering with the cloak. At least he seemed to be feeling better. 

Stephen was alerted to Bruce waking up by the slight increase in his heart rate. Bruce looked around confused for a moment, then sighed and laid back. His heart rate went back down. 

“Do you know where you are?,” Stephen asked, approaching slowly. Bruce looked a lot calmer, but he didn’t want to panic him. 

“We’re at the compound. How’s Clint is he ok?,” Bruce replied, taking in the room and the empty bed next to him. 

“Clint’s fine, he’s getting a shower. How are you doing?,” Stephen asked. 

Bruce’s eyes were no longer bright green, so that was a good sign at least. 

“Everything seems back to normal. I’m just tired and a little out of it,” Bruce replied honestly. 

Stephen nodded. “That’s to be expected. We gave you a light sedative so you might be groggy for a while. Your bloodwork looked pretty good considering. We’ll want to recheck it later.” 

Bruce nodded, only half listening. Suddenly he gasped. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?,” Stephen asked, ready to jump into action. 

“Sorry, no, nothing’s wrong. It’s the other guy...the Hulk. I think he’s back.” 

Bruce could feel that familiar echo in the back of his mind, the one that had been missing just hours earlier. He never thought he’d be grateful to have the other guy back in his head, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t. 

“Good. I don’t know for sure yet, but I think I know what happened. It looks like the chemical blocked some of the neural pathways, I’m assuming some of the ones connected to the Hulk. With some research we might be able to isolate those compounds and create a serum that blacks those pathways without the drug effects,” Stephen explained. 

Bruce could tell Stephen was fascinated by the neurobiological aspects of all this, but Bruce’s mind had froze the moment Stephen said they could create a serum to block the other guy. A permanent solution to the Hulk. 

There was a minute of silence and Stephen could see that Bruce was in deep thought. 

“I think...I’m gonna pass,” Bruce finally said. 

Stephen gave him a curious look before nodding. “Of course. If you ever change your mind, we can look into it.”

“I appreciate it,” Bruce replied. 

He didn’t think he would be changing his mind any time soon. He was glad that Stephen hadn’t pushed him for an explanation. It would be hard to put into words the terror he had felt when he realized he was alone. 

After Stephen looked Bruce over he walked him to his room so he could get cleaned up. 

After a while Clint, still fighting with the cloak, made it down to the kitchen and was thrilled to see the piles of waffles. 

Natasha set down a pot of coffee, but before he could chug it straight from the pot Natasha shoved a large mug at him and glared until he reluctantly poured the coffee into the mug. 

“Bruce is up,” Natasha said, finishing setting the table. 

“How is he?,” Clint asked. He had already finished his cup and was pouring himself another one. 

“Stephen said he’s doing a lot better. He’s getting cleaned up right now.”

“How come he didn’t have to take a shower with a magic cape staring at him the whole time?,” Clint grumbled. 

He dodged a blow from the cloak and smirked until the cloak took his mug of coffee. 

Natasha jumped into the fray and got things settled down by the time Stephen and Bruce arrived. 

Stephen took in the mountain of waffles. So that’s what Natasha had been up to while they were sleeping. 

“Alright everybody dig in,” Natasha said, laying out all of the syrup. 

Everybody filled their plates and ate in silence. None of them realized how hungry they were until they started eating. 

After they finished eating Clint and Bruce sat on the nearby couch after Natasha had denied their offer to help clean up. She was leaving most of the food out for the team since they would be back soon anyway. 

“I need to head back to the Sanctum,” Stephen stated, gathering up the cloak. 

After resting and eating something he knew he’d be able to open a portal with no problems. He also knew Bruce and Clint were doing ok now. 

“Thank you for everything,” Clint said. He knew they would have been screwed if Stephen hadn’t shown up. 

“We really appreciate it,” Bruce added. 

“Of course. I’m just glad everyone is doing ok,” Stephen replied honestly.

It was the best case scenario out of what was a shitty situation. He knew Natasha and the rest of the team would keep a close eye on the two and let him know if anything changed. 

He walked into the kitchen where Natasha was putting some of the dirty plates in the dishwasher. 

“I’m headed back to the Sanctum. Let me know if anything changes; I’ll stop by tomorrow to see how they’re doing,” Stephen said. “I also wanted to say thank you, for your help.”

Natasha nodded, not making a big deal out of it. She knew it was a rare occasion that Stephen Strange accepted help, much less thanked someone for it. 

“Thank you for yours. We really appreciate what you did,” Natasha replied. 

The two talked a little longer, with Stephen giving her instructions on changing the dressings on Clint’s wound, before he opened a portal to the Sanctum and stepped through. 

Natasha smiled. She’d never admit it to anyone, but the portals were pretty freaking cool. 

Clint and Bruce sat in companionable silence for a while watching a nature documentary on TV. Bruce finally spoke up. 

“Clint, I just wanted to say I’m so sorry about…”

“Bruce, don’t. Plese, you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Clint interrupted. 

“I stabbed you.”

“Yeah, well join the club, a lot of people have stabbed me,” Clint said with a shrug. 

Bruce sighed. 

“Look, we were both drugged. Did you know it was me you were stabbing?,” Clint asked, already guessing the answer. 

“No,” Bruce sighed. He knew that he didn’t hurt Clint on purpose but he still felt guilty. 

“Please don’t feel bad about it. I’m ok, there’s no permanent damage done,” Clint reassured Bruce. 

Bruce sighed, he couldn’t make any promises. “I’ll try not to feel guilty about it.” 

Clint knew that was about as good as it was gonna get. “If we’re apologizing I want to say sorry for what I did.”

“What you did?,” Bruce asked. 

“Threatening you with a knife?,” Clint replied, slightly confused. He figured that’d be something someone would remember. 

“Clint, I didn’t even realize that was you. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t,” Bruce replied, putting the pieces together. He vaguely remembered threats and a knife, but he thought he had been hallucinating. 

“Well, it was still a dick move.”

“Clint, you did what you had to. If you hadn’t gotten me to snap out of it we may not have been able to get out of that room. It was my fault, I was the one who freaked out.”

“You got hit by a huge dose of that shit, enough to knock out the Hulk! I’d be losing it too.”

“It wasn’t just the huge dose. That was part of it, but the thing that really freaked me out was that….I haven’t been really afraid in a long time,” Bruce admitted. “Anytime my heart rate gets high enough the other guy steps in. My heart was racing and nothing was happening. I had to face my fear for the first time in a long while.”

Clint nodded. He hadn’t thought about that. Bruce wasn’t able to panic, the Hulk always took over. But this time Bruce was faced with utter terror and no way out. 

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I swear I’m gonna find all the assholes that worked on that shit and fill them full of arrows,” Clint vowed. 

“There won’t be anything left of them to fill full of arrows if Natasha gets to them first,” Bruce replied. 

“Fair point.”

The two sat talking, and the conversation soon turned to less stressful topics like guessing which team member was going to eat the most waffles (Clint had his bet on Thor, but Bruce said scientifically Steve should be able to beat him). 

The team arrived, filling the dining room and common area with laughter and commotion despite everyone’s exhaustion. 

Natasha must have filled everyone in because no one questioned Clint and Bruce on what had happened other than to ask how they were doing. Clint figured they’d probably discuss it another time when everyone was less tired and it wasn’t so fresh in his and Bruce’s minds. 

As Bruce watched the antics of his teammates he felt the terror of the last twelve hours melt away and the echo of the other guy in his mind reminded him that he wasn’t alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's finished! I am glad to finish it in 2019 (in my time zone at least). Happy New Year to everyone! 
> 
> [I'm on Tumblr!](https://geckogirl7.tumblr.com/)


End file.
